


White Noise

by aplaceformyshipstoanchor



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apparently I write depressing fics when I am tipsy and listening to Halsey, Feels, Gen, after the breakup, bughead - Freeform, music as catharsis, post 2x05, trigger: self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 06:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12699261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aplaceformyshipstoanchor/pseuds/aplaceformyshipstoanchor
Summary: As Betty spirals post-breakup, she tries to drown out the noise in her head.





	White Noise

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written an angst fic before. I guess "Riverdale" has be in some kind of mood. But I am not worried for our lil Bughead. They will work it out fam.

           Her fingers flexed.

           Open. Closed.

           Open. Closed.

The skin had been ripped open an hour ago, but she still craved the painful sting that came from her clenching digits. Usually the pain that came with the habit helped her gain a sense of control. But tonight she had none.

            She thought that she was in control after the second phone call and that she could somehow direct the madness of this perverse opera. But she had been wrong. He had asked her to do something that before this would only have been the scenario of nightmares. He wasn’t just asking her to cut Jughead out of her life. He was asking her to carve out her heart and her sanity like the jack-o-lantern the Hood had threatened to turn Polly into if Betty didn’t comply with his terms.

            Betty Cooper was all oldies and bubblegum pop. But she had a secret stash. A secret burned CD that no one knew about it. _Well…almost no one._ She shook her head at the thought as she crawled over to her bookshelf. Her fingers trembled as she skimmed over the spine of her worn copy of “Anne of Green Gables”. A childhood favorite. She remembers thinking back to that day when she was thirteen when she decided that Anne Shirley was going to be the keeper of her darkest secrets. She had hidden many things in the old hardback copy over the years. CDs. Assignments with a big red B in the upper hand corner. A ticket stub to a midnight showing of “Rocky Horror Picture Show”. A pamphlet about birth control. Torn pages from her diary in which she revealed fragments of the memories of the times she had been consumed with anxiety and rage. Slowly she opened the book to the middle pages, a bare CD slipping silently onto the carpet.

           

_The morning after their heart-to-heart at Pop’s Jughead had come to school carrying the CD in his front jacket pocket. He greeted her tentatively. They were okay. But Betty could sense that he was still a bit shaken up after being so open and honest about his fears. After a gentle kiss to her forward he wordlessly slipped it into her backpack. She quirked an eyebrow at him._

_“Did you make me a mixed CD? I thought that was for the pre-dating phase. When a guy wanted to show a girl he wanted to go ‘steady’.” She teased, bumping his shoulder lightly. He chuckled softly._

_“I am nothing if not a sucker for purer times. But yes. I did. It’s not to show my blossoming hopes for romance though. It’s for….” He hesitated. He grabbed her hand slowly and began to rub his thumb over her crescent-shaped scars. “It’s for when you feel the darkness coming and I can’t be there. Listening to loud music helps me. It’s like the bands are screaming out my pain for me. It’s probably some maladaptive coping mechanism rooted in masculinity. But it does quiet everything down for a little while. I don’t know if it will help you. But I thought maybe for when you were at home and your mom was driving away your sanity you could listen to this. I know I can’t always be there with you, but this way I kind of am...” He was cut off abruptly by Betty’s lips crashing into his. She pulled back, her eyes glistening._

_“Jug.” She breathed out. “Thank you. Really.” She leaned in for another kiss. When she pulled back she wiped a stray tear away off of her cheek before returning her gaze to him._

_“Though you know, I don’t think I have a way to play this. I haven’t had a disc player in years. And my Mac Book Air doesn’t have a CD-ROM.”_

_Jughead reached into his messenger bag and retrieved an old, scratched Discman. He held it up towards Betty. “Ye of little faith. There is an advantage to being economically challenged.” He said half sarcastically. Betty smiled but shook her head._

_“Juggie, that’s yours. I can’t take it from you. How will you listen to your music.” She began pushing it towards his body, but instead of placing it back into his own backpack he instead reopened hers and placed it inside._

_“I’ll figure it out. I always do.  I’ll feel better knowing you have it. Besides, Archie has an old Boom box in the garage if I really need an outlet. Please.” He quietly pleaded. “Just try it.” Betty couldn’t argue. Or even really form any words. She just felt an overwhelming warmth in her chest at his words; at his tenderness and concern._

_“Okay.”_

_“Okay.” He answered rubbing her shoulder._

Betty picked up the CD and reached behind her last row of books to retrieve the beat up Discman. Tears began to fall silently as she placed the CD inside and pulled the worn earbuds to her ears.       

            “ _I know I can’t always be there with you, but this way I kind of am”._ His words echoed in her ears before she pressed play and her body shuddered as the deep base of a death metal song she didn’t know the name of blasted through the small buds. She leaned back flat on the carpeted floor and tried to let the white noise force out the crushing pain that was overwhelming her. Her fingers clenched again instinctively. How was she supposed to get through any of this without him? How was she supposed to live with the fact that somewhere, across town he was wondering why she was rejecting and abandoning him? She had made a promise to support him and breaking that promise was breaking them both. Betty would figure out a way to make this all stop. She _would walk this back._

            Open.

            Closed.

            Open.

            Closed.

            The music raged on in her head. And after a few minutes she uncurled her fingers, pulling her sleeves down over her bleeding palms. With her sleeves over her hands she picked up the Discman and held it to her chest. The tips of her fingers stroked the well-worn buttons. And she could almost imagine the feel of the grooves of his fingertips on her skin. She closed her eyes and felt herself drift off to sleep. Letting someone else scream the pain away for her. 

        


End file.
